Too Small
by AcaciaDawn105
Summary: Rewrite of the original 'Too Short'. I decided I hated the way I did it, and I can't access it, so I'm redoing it. Talia lives and works at the Blackwater inn. Quite by luck, and the will of a Wizard, she will be sent on a journey of a lifetime. Many things come to light, while others stay in shadow. Will she find herself? Summary sucks, just read it, it's really good, I promise.


_**Too Small**_

 _ **Chapter One~ The Blackwater**_

 _ **A/N: This is a rewrite of a Hobbit story I did on my original account 'Too Short'. But, since I can't access it to continue, I will be redoing in alongside my LOTR story 'Faith Is Blind'. I will be redoing a lot of what was written because I wrote this nearly four years ago when I was sixteen. I'm a better writer now, so here you go.**_

 _Five years prior_

When a tall man cloaked in grey entered the Blackwater wearing a large pointed hat, people took notice. Even in this seedy, rat-infested place, where the lowliest of men came looking for ale and cheap women, they took notice of a stranger amongst them. The old man seated himself at the very back of the tavern, where he could see everything and everyone within. He knew exactly what he was there for, it was just a matter of waiting for it to come into sight. For the most part, Gandalf the Grey was ignored by the staff, no one daring to go near the Wizard. Every so often, someone would sneak a glance at him, then turn away when he met their eyes. Many were worried that he would turn them into toads or newts, or some variation, as Wizards were often thought to do. Most people didn't actually realize that Wizards were more of guardians to Middle Earth than troublemakers who bothered themselves with the scum of the earth.

A door on the other side of the room opened up, revealing a very overweight, very ugly man who looked overly satisfied with himself while he adjusted his trousers. Through the door, Gandalf could see, much to his horror, a child. She was so small, the dress that she wore hung off her frame as if it were two sizes too big. From where he was sitting, he could see the marks on her thin, bony shoulders as she pulled the dress up to cover herself better before she walked out of the room. Tough her face was downcast, he could feel something, even from all the way across the room, a kind of magic about her. Walking up to the bar, she climbed atop a stool so that she could see over the counter. Without a word, she put her hand down on the bar and slid the meager pile of coins across it to the man who owned the tavern. There was nothing spoken, and she did not look at the barkeep. Thol, the owner, took the silver and pocketed it. Low enough that he could not be heard, he told her something that made her flinch, then look in the Wizard's direction. When she turned back to Thol, she nodded and got down from the stool, taking the plate and pint that were handed to her.

Gandalf gave the girl a gentle smile when she approached his table. "Some food for you, sir. On the house." She set them down and backed away a little, not having looked him in the face.

"Oh, thank you, my dear. Would you care to join me?" She started a little, then looked back towards the bar, where Thol was keeping a close eye on the goings ons between them. The fat man nodded once, stern and ordering.

With a gulp, she sat down across from him, playing with the ends of her grimy hair. Neither said anything, but Gandalf took some time to look her over. She didn't appear a day over ten years old, small and thin. Unlike the rest of the women in this place, who were all large, buxom, and clothed in revealing dresses and corsets, this girl wore only her too big dress that was more patches than it was original dress. The wide collar hung around the edges of her shoulder, making her constantly have to pull it closed around her neck. While her eyes were constantly moving, darting around at the slightest movement, she never looked anyone in the eye, not even the other women. Behind her, the sound of a throat clearing made her jump. Gandalf could see the pain and fear in her eyes as she inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself.

"How long do you think you will need tonight, sir?"

"I'm sorry, my dear, I don't quite understand."

The girl gulped. "My master wishes to know how long you wish to have the pleasure of my company, so that he may charge you accordingly." The dress slipped off her shoulder again, revealing a large pattern of bruises, some old and yellowing, others fresh and barely starting to turn purple. She was quick to cover herself.

"Ah. Well, actually, I think it would be good if your...master and I spoke face to face. Would you mind to bring him here?"

"Yes, sir." The girl stood and went back to the bar. Words were exchanged, and it was easy to see that Thol wasn't too thrilled to have to talk to the Wizard himself.

But he did. "How may I be of service to you tonight, good sir?"

"Well, you see, I have a bit of a proposition for you. I will be taking the girl tonight."

Thol grinned, exposing his brown and missing teeth. "Of course, sir. Will you be having her for an hour, or all night? I can make accommodations for either."

"Oh, no you misunderstand me." Gandalf plopped a bag of coins on the table. "I will be taking the girl from your service...for good. There should be enough in there to cover her expenses." Behind Thol, the girl stared at him wide-eyed, hopeful. But, then that hope turned to fear.

Thol narrowed his eyes at the Wizard, suspiciously taking the purse and peeking in it to make sure he wasn't being duped. Sure enough, it was full of silver coins, more than he had ever seen at one time in his whole life. Tying the sack to his belt he grabbed the girl by the scruff of the neck and thrust her towards him. "Go on, take the bitch. Barely brings in any money as it is." With that, he walked away, knowing that she was no longer his problem to worry over.

The girl stood, unsure of what she was supposed to do. There was no telling what this strange man would do to her now that he had her all to himself. Everyone knew that you couldn't really hurt a working girl who was under the employment of a pimp, because then there would be consequences. Many a time, she had heard tell of this John or that, who had roughed up the wrong wench, and been found the next day either tied to a tree and left for the wolves or floating facedown in the river. But, if one were to own said girl, there was no law that said you couldn't discipline one's own property.

Gandalf smiled at her, standing from his seat. The movement startled her, making her flinch away from him. "My apologies, dear. Come, let us leave this foul place." She noticed he had not even touched the food that she had brought him, not that she blamed him. The food here was often riddled with mold, or covered in rat droppings that were just brushed off and then served. "Do you have anything that you need to collect before you go?"

Nodding, she took off to the back room where she usually slept when not working, and ran to a little cot under the broken window. There was a loose floorboard under the thin blanket that she used to hide what little she held dear from the other women. An old, worn handkerchief was stuffed full of coins that the girl had squirreled away over the last few years, a handful of beads, a necklace, and a small green book. The old man was patiently waiting for her when she came back out of the room, smiling down at her before holding the door open for her to go out first. He led her to a cart chock full of parcels of many shapes and sizes. Without asking first, he grasped her under the arms and easily lifted her onto the seat. From the back of the cart, he drew a thick blanket and passed it to her, then climbed up beside her.

"So, my dear. As we are to companions, may I ask your name?"

In the smallest voice, barely a whisper, she said, "Talia."

With a smile, he responded, "It is most wonderful to make your acquaintance, Talia. My name is Gandalf the Grey. Oh, don't just hold that blanket. Cover up. It is far to chilly out here for you to be so exposed. We shall have to find you some new clothes. We have a short journey ahead of us, so we might as well get to know one another." Talia shifted under the blanket, secretly thankful for something to cover herself from his piercing grey eyes. "I know, how about we play a game. Do you like games?"

"Never had much use for them."

"Hmm. Alright, here are the rules. You'll ask me a question, and I must answer it truthfully. Then I will ask you. And so on and so forth. Would that be acceptable?"

"Why are you doing this?" Her dark, dull eyes turned to him, narrowed suspiciously.

"Well, you see, there are many things going on in the world. As a Wizard, there are many things that I have no knowledge of, but know that there are some things that need to be done to set our destinies on their path."

"That makes no sense."

"Perhaps to you, but I find that it makes perfect sense to me, and that is all that matters. My turn. How did one so young come to be in such a place?"

"My mother died when I was eight years old. I don't know remember really what happened, but Thol took me in." Talia shrugged under the blanket. "Are you really a Wizard? Can you do magic?"

"That was two questions, my dear. But, yes, I am. And yes, I can. How long have you been working there?"

She sat still for a moment, trying to calculate. "I didn't work like the other girls, at first. Thol had me cleaning up after them and the Johns. I did that for two years or so, before one of the men took notice of me. I think it's been eleven summers since the day my mother left."

"So long?! You seem to only be a child, but you are a woman already."

"I suppose. What do you want from me?"

"Want from you?" Gandalf turned to look at her, astonished. "My dear girl, why in the world would you think I want anything from you?"

"Because men always want something. I'm a whore, and I know that there is always a price for something. If you want to lay with me, you only need to say so. There's no need for beating around the bush like this. You are my new master after all."

The cart came to a rather sudden stop, as he stared at her with his mouth hanging open. "You poor child. I want nothing from you. I am not your master, nor are you any longer anyone's servant. You are free. Be the master of your own fate. I ask only for your friendship."

"Why? Why would you do this? I am no one, nothing. I am not even worth a passing glance. My only worth is in how many men are interested in a woman who looks like a girl. So, why would a Wizard bother with me?"

Gandalf smiled sadly at her, one hand reaching out to lay upon her head. "My dear, you are more important than you know. You are certainly destined for something great. Now, we have a ways to go before the next town, so I suggest you try to get some sleep. The back should be comfortable enough for you to lay down if you wish."

Talia couldn't help but stare at the man for a moment, but did as he said and climbed in the back of the cart to lay down in a spot that was not filled up with parcels.

)0(

 _Bag End, Present day._

"Lia, have you seen my tobacco pouch?" Bilbo Baggins of Bag End ran around his sitting room, turning over papers and books to find the missing item.

From the kitchen, the now filled out woman poked her head around the corner. "I think you left it in the library."

Thumping his head, the Hobbit smiled at her. "Of course. What would I do without you?"

Talia did not answer him, just chuckled and went back to her canning. Five years ago, nearly to the day, Gandalf had bought her from her horrid master, cleaned her up, and fed her well enough that she actually got sick the first time, not being used to having so much food in front of her. For weeks they had traveled, slowly over the lush green of the countryside. During that time, Gandalf did his best to break her from her hard learned habits of hiding food in case he decided to stop feeding her, and keep her distance with eyes lowered and not speaking unless asked a direct question. He was surprised to find that she could read and write, despite her previous living conditions. She explained that her mother had taught her how to, and she practiced with it every day, even though she only had one little book. Eventually, they came to the borders of the Shire. Upon crossing into it, Gandalf hit her with the news.

He could no longer travel with her, but that she should stay in the Shire with an old friend of his. The Wizard wrote a letter, asking this friend to take her in. She was given directions, and a small bit of money that she had made helping Gandalf with his fireworks, and sent on her way with a hug and a promise to see her again one day. The creatures that lived in the Shire were not like any she had ever seen before. They were smaller than her, and a perpetually merry people. Hobbits. Several times, she had to stop and ask for the way, but eventually she made it. Suffice to say, Bilbo was a little more than surprised to find a young woman standing on his doorstep, clutching her meager possessions and the note, saying that she needed to stay with him. There were many things in that letter, none of which Talia knew because she didn't read it as it was not addressed to her. But, whatever was there, it was enough to convince the Hobbit to let her stay. Presumably, it explained where she had come from and what she had been doing before Gandalf found her, because at first Bilbo saw her as a fragile little thing. Even though she was nearly six inches taller than him.

To most of the other Hobbits, it was a most irregular situation, and many of them were wary of her. Eventually, they warmed up to her, as the year wore on and she proved that she was actually very sweet. For a while, though, Talia didn't go past the fence of Bag End, keeping mostly inside. Her day usually consisted of cooking, cleaning, and then holing herself up in Bilbo's library. Until one day, Bilbo decided enough was enough, and all but drug her to the market. Still, she kept close to him and didn't talk to anyone, trying to stay inconspicuous. But, standing nearly head and shoulders over all of the Hobbits, that didn't happen. Everyone stared at her. It wasn't until an older Hobbit woman by the name of Martha Lee came up to her and offered to make her a dress, that the girl finally smiled.

And to this day, she was ever so grateful for that crazy Wizard that plucked her from the whorehouse and had all but forced her upon Bilbo. She had a home, and for the last five years, had slowly managed to pull herself from the many years of servitude, with the help of her new friend. She had even become rather famous throughout Hobbiton and the Shire as an excellent herbalist, making all sorts of concoctions for even the littlest of things.

"Ah, found it!" Bilbo stepped through the doorway, swinging his pouch to show her. "Erm, are you going to be 'round for dinner tonight?"

"I'm not quite sure yet. Old Gaffer Gamgee has been having some problems with his teeth again. I thought I'd go check on him. And then there's Mister Worrywort, who's grandbaby hasn't been feeling well lately. I'll leave some biscuits out for you if I'm not back in time, but you'll have to run to the market this afternoon to get the fish. Oh, and I've just made a batch of cookies, they're cooling off right now."

"Sounds like you've had quite a productive day already," the Hobbit smirked as he began filling his pipe. "Are you ever going to slow down."

Grinning, she said, "Probably not. You know what happens when it gets too quiet."

"Yes, yes, I know. You get so antsy. It's a wonder you don't tear the house apart during the winter. Anyway, I'm going out for a smoke in the garden. It's a lovely day out. Think you'll join me?"

"In a bit. I've got to make sure my medicine bag is full up."

"Alright, well, whenever you're ready." With that, he turned the corner. Once she heard the door shut, she leaned against the counter. Yes, it had been a wonderful five years. Bilbo was the best friend anyone could ever ask for. But, at the same time, it was so hard. There were still days when she woke in a cold sweat thinking that Thol or one of the other girls were coming to get her up, there were still nightmares of some of the men who paid for her. She didn't tell Bilbo this, because he could never understand. Sweet as he was, the Hobbit had never had a hard day in his life. His family was considerably well off, and he lived by himself until she came around. The Shire was like paradise on earth, and she loved it there, but at the same time...something was off. She was not a Hobbit, at least, not as far as she knew.

Shaking her head, Talia went into her room to gather up her medicines, making sure that she had everything for toothaches and colic. Even a few others in case she ran across someone else on her way that needed help. All was quiet for a few moments, until she heard the front door slam shut, and muttering. As she made her way down the hall, there was a scratching noise, and Bilbo was pressed up against the wall gasping.

"Whatever is the matter?"

"There is a crazy man outside."

"Crazy? What are you talking about?"

"A Wizard. Gandalf the Grey. He's talking some nonsense about an adventure."

"What?! Gandalf was here?" Running to the door, she swung it open, but was disappointed to see no one there. "He's gone...why didn't he ask to see me? Did he forget that he left me here?"

"I have no idea. There's no telling what's going on in that funny head of his. Anyway, I'm going to go get cleaned up before I go to the market. I'll see you later tonight." He didn't wait for her to answer, but went back to his room, leaving her standing at the open door. Her head hung, suddenly saddened that the only other true friend she had, had forgotten her. Something at the bottom of the door caught her eye, and she squatted down to look. There was a symbol, Gandalf's mark that he put on all of his fireworks. _That's odd..._

But, she didn't have time to worry over the strange ways of a Wizard, because she had work to do. Her coat hung from a peg by the door, as did her boots. Since she was not a Hobbit and did not have the tough feet that they did, she could not go around barefoot, so she had to go to the nearest town, Bree, to have shoes made for her. Everything about her was small, and many people mistook her for a child because of her small stature. But, upon closer inspection, they could see that she was, indeed, just a very small woman. Having filled out in the last five years of good food and little stress, her curves had come in, making the clothes Gandalf had gotten her far too small around her bust and hips. It seemed that she never stopped growing, meaning that every so often, she had to let out her dresses a bit, until there was no more fabric left for her to extend, and she had to go get new clothes. This irked her to no end, but at least she actually had money to buy them. Her small business of healing had quickly turned into a rather profitable venture.

So, donning her coat and taking up her bag, the small woman set out for her daily routine of visiting with people and helping them feel better. As Bilbo had said, it was indeed a lovely day. The springtime sun shone brightly through the trees, who's leaves fluttered in the gentle breeze. Throughout Hobbiton, people milled about, going about their own lives as if nothing else in the world existed. As if there was not evil in the world, and darkness that crept ever closer. Honestly, the most horrible thing in this place was probably Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, who was a spiteful, horrid woman, and some distant cousin of Bilbo. Due to having been married into the Baggins name, she was not very well liked by many of her kin. In fact, Bilbo had often turned away invitations to family events if he knew she was going to be there, and made a point of not sending them out to her side of the family.

Gaffer Gamgee was an old gardener, who worked for the Baggins family, namely those that lived in Bag End. So, she was very familiar with him, as he helped her tend to the garden around her home at least once a week. He had many children who lived in the same neighborhood as him, and a few who now had babies as well. Gaffer was a lovely old man, and she happily saw to his health with no charge because he was one of the few people who had helped her during her first few months in the Shire. He had a sore tooth which he apparently chipped many years ago on a piece of peanut brittle made by one of his daughters. Every now and then it would act up, and she would prescribe him some clove oil to soothe it. For an hour or so, she stayed around, sipping on a cup of tea while playing with some of the younger children. One of the little girls sat behind her and braided her hair with a pretty little purple ribbon she had found.

But, after a while, she did have to leave, and continue on her way. Master Worrywort's family were vegetable farmers and merchants from the other side of Hobbiton. He had a smaller family than most Hobbits did, but this did not bother him in the least. His one grandson was squalling when she walked in the door, clearly upset. His mother looked disheveled. As it was her first, she was a little out of sorts, and often had to call on other people to help her with the baby.

"Oh, oh, poor little Morty. Come here, sweet boy." She said as soon as she set her bag down. Misty, his mother, looked immediately relieved that she was there.

"Oh, thank goodness. He's been like this for three days. I haven't had a lick of sleep."

"It's alright, Misty. Poor little fellow just has a tummy ache, that's all. Isn't that right, precious? Yes, it is." She cooed as she sat down in the rocking chair, setting the baby on her legs. "Pass me my bag." Misty put it on the end table, where she could reach it, then sat down beside her.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"Of course. This sort of thing just happens. I've seen enough of them to know. You didn't do anything. Let me see here...ah, fennel. This will help with his gas. Just a little mind you, and it has to be cool before he drinks it. Has he been eating well?"

"Oh, that's the only time he's quiet, is when he's latched on. But, recently, he's not eating as much."

"Not to worry, dear. You go make the tea, and I'll see if I can't release some of this boy's trapped wind." The mother nodded, then hurried to do as she was bid. Meanwhile, Talia rocked with the baby against her shoulder, gently patting his back. It didn't take long before he burped, which quieted him a little. Once that was done, she laid him back down over her legs and started moving his tiny feet around. Misty came back in and was shocked to see what she was doing. "Moving him around like this, like he's riding a bike, helps moved things around in there. Gets all that gas moving it way out." Sure enough, Morty screwed up his little face, tensed, and let out the longest, loudest fart either of them had ever heard. "There. That's better, isn't it, sweetie."

"You're so good with him. You sure you're not a mum?"

"Oh, gracious, no. Here, let him drink the tea, and he should fall right asleep. When he does, you go lay down and get some rest. You've earned it."

"Thank you, Lia. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much having you around has helped."

"Don't mention it. Just go rest. I'll be by again in a few days to see how you're both doing. Send word if he gets bad again." With that, she took her leave, noting that it was already getting dark, and she had a long walk back to Bag End. "Better get moving. Bilbo will be wondering where I am."

)0(

 _A/N: I know, it's so much different than the original story, but I really hated the way I wrote it before. I think this is going to be much better. Let me know what you think, read and review._

 _AcaciaDawn105_


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